Pride (Dwarf Noble Origin)
by Graymalkyn
Summary: One-shot story about Sereda Aeducan - memories and moments from her childhood until she steps out of Orzammar. (Stand-alone, but linked to "Last Of The Couslands - A Family Story")


**Pride ~ Sereda Aeducan**

Her mother had the prettiest smile, the softest skin, and the kindest eyes. Sereda loved her dearly. She had a memory of Trian and Bhelen hopping around as her mother told them a tale of a man that had risen to Paragon solely on valour and will; a man who had been a beacon for all the castes when dark times had threatened Orzammar. She was sitting in front of the fire, listening to her mother, her open mouth in the shape of a perfect circle, holding her breath.

When her mother finished, she clapped. Her mother smiled and opened her arms to embrace her. She sat on her mother's lap and cuddled against her. Her mother was warmer than the spot by the fireplace. Her brothers were the strongest and smartest boys in the thaig. And her father…

King Endrin entered the room and the boys ran up to him. Sereda poked her head from behind the chair where she was sitting with her mother and smiled. Endrin picked little Bhelen from an arm and a leg and swirled him around. Bhelen's high-pitch laughter irritated Trian, who demanded the attention of his father. Endrin patted Trian on the head and approached his wife and daughter. He kissed their golden heads and pinched Sereda's little nose. She grinned and hid her face in her mother's chest.

In that room lay the heart and pride of House Aeducan.

* * *

Her mother's body was as cold as the Stone itself. She caressed her mother's fair hair one last time, and then stepped back to return to her father's side. She was ten years old. Sereda looked at her father and her brothers, who were standing to his right. There were no tears rolling down their faces. She quickly wiped hers and looked ahead. She felt her father's hand patting her head. Her eyes itched and her throat burned all through the final song.

_"Kalkromthï, ùt Orta rinn Duraz  
dwarva Orta'ek lôk-del  
un ek Karrak dûk  
wanrak ùt Gandh amgarrak bïzar"_

"_Atrast tunsha,_ Mother," Sereda whispered.

* * *

The sword was the only way for her to communicate with the rest of her family now. She learned how to handle one from the best trainer the Proving Grounds had to offer. Her father approved of her newly-found interest in weaponry, and thus he commissioned the finest buckler.

"It is beautiful, Father," she said, as he presented her with it on her sixteenth birthday. "Perhaps… It is a tad small for proper defence, don't you agree?"

King Endrin laughed. "So… You do intend to be serious about becoming a warrior, huh?"

"Why not?" Sereda smiled. "What would you have me do instead?"

"I do not know, my dear. Marry a fine man and be happy? That was enough for your mother." He grinned naughtily as he saw his daughter's disbelieving face. "Ah, you would never have expected that to come from my mouth, right?"

Sereda shook her head. "As much as I loved Mother, I think I've always wanted to be like Nana. Wouldn't you be happy to have a Proving champion, like your own mother?"

"I hope you'll give it a try as a Silent Sister, Sereda," Trian grunted, taking a seat by his father. "The nonsense you speak is sometimes too much to take before breakfast."

Bhelen snorted. Sereda frowned at him.

"I think it very noble of Lady Aeducan to want to be a warrior, Prince Trian," Lord Harrowmont said gently. "She's got a good head over her shoulders. Besides, you'd have a good general, at least one that you can trust."

"Well said, Pyral," King Endrin nodded. Trian raised his eyebrows but said nothing further.

* * *

Gorim had been a surprise.

House Aeducan had trusted House Saelac for a long time. The Saelacs provided the Royal family with excellent warriors, in exchange for a special position in court, which in turn gave them a minor advantage in matters of the Assembly. When his daughter turned twenty-three years old, King Endrin thought that it was time for her to test her mettle against a real warrior – one that would not back down just because she was the king's daughter. House Saelac had chosen Gorim for the honour.

He was very polite and respectful and she greatly enjoyed his company, but after several weeks of practicing with him, she realized that he wasn't what she needed. It was hard to beat him in combat, yes – but he was not challenging.

"I have to say, Gorim – I expected much more from a member of House Saelac," she said to him one morning, after practicing for more than three hours. She dropped her sword on the weaponry chest and wiped the sweat from her forehead.

"Pardon me, my lady?" He seemed to be surprised by her words.

She tossed her long blonde braid behind her back and put her hands on her hips. "I said that I expected more from you. It appears to me that you're holding back."

His eyes were fixed on her, but he didn't reply immediately. He certainly had beautiful eyes, the colour of jaded emeralds. Why was he looking at her? Sereda cleared her throat, uncomfortably. "So, do you think that next time we meet you can make a greater effort? Otherwise, I will have to pay a visit to your House to see what else they can offer."

"Yes, my lady," he replied. He bowed and exited the room.

The next time they met, Gorim was dressed in his full armor. "I suggest you wear your helmet today, my lady," he'd said to her as soon as she had picked up her sword. She raised her eyebrows. He looked back at her, but did not move.

"Very well. If this will improve things…"

Gorim threw a helmet to her hands. She caught it and put it on. It felt strange. _He_ made her feel strange as well. He looked different and, as their combat session progressed, he certainly seemed to be a different person. His attacks were unerring, confident, focused. She felt excited for the first time in months, delivering blows and sneaking out feints as if her life depended on it.

After two hours, she wanted to yield. But he wouldn't let her. He continued attacking her until she fell on her knees and removed the helmet.

"Ancestors!" Sereda panted. "That was… That was _amazing_, Gorim! Well done!" She smiled. "That is exactly what I needed, _salrokas_!" She stood up on her own. "Why hadn't we done this before?"

Gorim watched her silently. Her fair cheeks were blushed, her blue eyes sparkled like diamonds, and her blonde hair had got tousled by the helmet. And the smile on her perfect lips… Could he tell her why without risking his position? No. He went for the safest answer.

"Because you're a woman," he grunted.

The smile froze on her lips. "What?"

"You're a woman. If you wear the helmet, you're just an enemy. It's easier."

Her mouth was now a thin line; her lips were pressed so tight that they'd started to turn white. "Get out of here."

"My lady-"

"OUT!" she barked, and turned around. She heard the door close behind her. She clenched her fists. How _dared_ he treat her like a mere woman! After all the years that she had been training to be one of the best warriors, to be the pride of House Aeducan! A _woman_, he had said. Reduced her to a mere breeder, that's what he'd done to her. Two tears rolled down her cheeks and went past her jawline before she could wipe them away. Her blood was boiling. The_ nerve_…

She turned towards the door and there he was.

He hadn't left the room.

She was outraged. "I commanded you to leave!"

"Hear me once, and then I will be gone," he said calmly. "This was our last session together. You can have my cousin as my replacement."

"_Replacement_?" she squinted. "Oh, I see. Too embarrassed to fight a _woman_?" She was trying to control her voice, but her throat had started burning again, like the last time she had cried. "You're not a great warrior, after all."

"What is it to you?" Gorim said sharply. "Yes, I'm providing you with a replacement. My reasons are my own."

She opened her eyes wide. He was actually defying her.

"_Veata!_" Sereda shouted. "You are way out of line here, Gorim! Have you forgotten who I am?"

"Never. That's why I'm doing this," he replied. "It's… It's improper for me to be here, alone with you." He took a step towards her. "When I see you, I don't want to fight you, Sereda Aeducan." He dropped his sword and helmet. "That's not what I want to do with you."

She was stunned. Was he saying…?

"I see the warrior inside you. But I can't help being distracted by the woman outside." He was standing in front of her. He was slightly taller, and he smelled of warm sheets and desire. And suddenly, his lips were on hers; his arms surrounded her body, and she felt her woman's heart beating for the first time.

* * *

Sereda Aeducan, twenty-five years old, closed the door behind her lover and kissed him passionately.

"Nice try, darling," Gorim said between kisses, "but you know where our kissing session led us to last week."

"I was hoping it would lead us there again," she whispered. He pressed his forehead against hers and pushed her away with a final kiss. "You look stunning in your ceremonial armor. I trust you like the way I had it fixed?"

"Very much. Thank you, Gorim." She equipped her sword and shield and looked at herself in the mirror. She hoped she would honour her grandmother's armor with her actions. Gorim had told her about the Provings that would be held in her name, and she intended to participate in the event, in spite of Trian's complaints about her not attending the noble feast.

"You're not having second thoughts, are you? Because of your brother's words?" Gorim said behind her.

"Not at all. I am as much of a warrior as he is. As much of an Aeducan as he is. Today I will win that tourney, Gorim, and I will take my rightful place in the memories of this family."

* * *

So, where had she gone wrong?

The cell was small. But that was the idea, right? No comfort. No hope. Where had she gone wrong? She had been a dutiful daughter, a loving sister. She had never gossiped. She had never defied. She had never been politically ambitious or mistrustful. She had only wanted to be as good as she could possibly be.

Had that been her mistake?

She covered her face with her hands, but every time she closed her eyes, Trian's dead face appeared in front of her. The pool of blood where she was kneeling had been all the evidence that Bhelen had needed to convince the Assembly of her guilt. She hadn't even been allowed to defend herself, in spite of Gorim's pleas and Harrowmont's voiced suspicions.

_Her little brother._ It was disgusting to think that the same blood ran through her veins. What honour had whoremonger, cowardly Bhelen brought to the House? And _her father_… Her father had believed _him_. How come her father had trusted her enough to recover the shield of Paragon Aeducan, the pride of the House, but not enough to believe in her when she had sworn that she hadn't killed Trian?

Sereda was deep in thought when Gorim arrived to talk to her.

* * *

_Thank the Ancestors for Harrowmont's sword._ She had managed to collect some equipment from the dead Darkspawn that littered the passages of the Deep Roads. Time was precious to her. _Find the Wardens,_ Gorim had said. _They are your only chance._ But she had walked for some hours now, and there was no sign of them. One of her legs had been hurt by a trap. If she survived, she would never underestimate the power of a good pair of boots again.

It was the end of the last corridor. _Now or never._ She came out and there they were. A group of four, and a brand. She frowned.

"What is this?" One of them said. She remembered he had been present when her father had appointed her Commander of Orzammar. What was his name? _Duncan._ "Lady Aeducan!" Duncan exclaimed.

The name felt like a sting in her heart. She saw the casteless dwarf flinching. He looked down and stepped back. The name that she had been so proud of…

"Are you alone?" one of the Wardens asked. "What happened?"

"I don't think we should intrude, Logan," Duncan cut him short. "Do you need us to escort you back to Orzammar, Lady Aeducan?"

"Aeducan no longer, Commander," she said, keeping her chin up. "Sereda will do. And no. I can't return to Orzammar. I-" She took a deep breath. "I'm here to join the Wardens. If you will have me."

The brand opened his mouth. "But…"

Duncan raised his hand. "Do you understand that this is a calling for life, Sereda? That there is no turning back?"

It took all of her strength to utter the inevitable words. "I have nowhere to return to, Commander."

Duncan's eyes watched her. He nodded. "Then let us make it formal: I offer you a position in the ranks of the Grey Wardens. Will you accept it?"

"Yes," she said, without hesitating.

"Welcome, Sereda!" the brand said excitedly, and immediately after he covered his mouth and blushed. The Wardens laughed. She raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"Thank you," she replied.

"Shall we?" Duncan said, and led them away from Orzammar.

_Away for good,_ she thought, as she stepped out of the thaig for the first time.

...


End file.
